


I will never, never again run away from life, or from love, either

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Breaking Up & Making Up, Canon Gay Character, First Meetings, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, my crackship of doom is back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-26 14:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13237269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: “God, thank you,” Ned says, “you’re a lifesaver. Really.”“If I can help out,” Jon says, and then closes the call figuring he should put on a coat and leave - good thing he hadn’t even had the strength to change when he came back home from work.Shit, if ten years ago you’d have told him he’d end up trying to help out the cousin of Rhaegar’s estranged son get over whatever gay crisis he has going on, he’d have laughed. Hard.Now he doesn’t feel like laughing whatsoever.Or: in which Robb and Theon's relationship troubles bring two other people together.





	I will never, never again run away from life, or from love, either

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TotemundTabu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotemundTabu/gifts).



> So, for my end of the year prompt taking extravaganza on tumblr, I got _Prompt can we have a Brynden Tully x JonC in which they meet cause of Throbb?? In any way you please I just want these 4 interacting and double the ship_. Now, one of my new resolutions for 2018 was WRITING MORE OF MY FAVORITE CRACKSHIP so who am I to say no? So here you go, have those two playing relationship counselor for the throbbs. I regret nothing.
> 
> Also: of course they don't belong to me or grrm would treat them better, the show wouldn't have killed poor brynden offscreen AND jonc would be in it and the title is from a movie that ended up actually being relevant to this ridiculousness and you shall find out at the end if you didn't guess already. Also this is supposed to be set sometime at the end of the nineties which would make them children of the late fifties/sixties and therefore SORRY THEY'RE OLD-TASTE AND I AM AS WELL. *saunters vaguely downwards*

When the phone rings at eleven thirty PM, Jon had drifted off in front of the television while watching an admittedly terrible romcom that was doing nothing to make him feel better about Hollywood remaking perfectly good movies from the thirties, nor about his current lack of a sentimental life _nor_ about the fact that he still has no idea if he’s gotten over Rhaegar yet - he thinks he _has_ , if anything because he hasn’t seen him in years since he eloped with Lyanna Stark after having left their kid at his uncle’s and deciding they weren’t actually _ready for children_ , so who knows.

Shit, his life _sucks_.

Anyway, he was watching Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan arguing about their not-date while making him sorely miss the originals, and then the phone woke him up as they lock lips, which makes him realize that he missed the Obvious Terrible Reveal That They Were Meant To Be while he was asleep, and then he realizes _someone is calling him at eleven PM_ and shit, who even calls at this point?

Unless it’s an emergency?

Jon grabs the phone at the fourth ring, hoping against hope it’s a prank call or something.

“Yeah?” He mutters as he grabs the phone. “Who’s this?”

“Jon? Uh, it’s Ned.”

 _Ned Stark_? Shit, something must have happened to his sister. Or _something_. Or maybe to -

“ _Ned_? What’s going on? Is there a problem with -”

“With your namesake? No, actually. That’s - shit, I feel so embarrassed, and I’m really sorry for calling you _now_ , but - it’s Robb, actually.”

What the -

“Uh, how can I help you?” Jon has no idea what might be going on with Ned’s firstborn that they would need _his_ help with.

“It’s just - did, like, _our_ Jon tell you he got together with his best friend, right?”

“Theon Greyjoy? Yeah, he did tell me. He did sigh as he did and added something about not realizing what Robb found attractive in that asshole, but then he went, _as long as they’re happy_ and that was it.”

“Er, see, it’s - they kind of broke up. But they didn’t want to.”

“Wait, how did they break up _if they didn’t want to_?”

“Robb’s theory was that Theon’s father about forced him to because he’s _that_ bad and always hated Robb’s guts for some reason, but then he burst out crying and locked himself up in his room and he no one’s managed to drag him out of there yet. And - er, Cat might be on the phone with her uncle trying to see if he can come here and help solve the situation, but - other than him, you’re about the only person I know who, uh, is into men, you know, so - you think you could come over here? Because he’s _really_ miserable and he’s not listening to anyone, Jon first and foremost, and just - yeah. If you can’t -”

“No, it’s okay,” Jon cuts him short. “I mean, I was watching bad romcoms where Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks are bookshop rivals or whatever and it was so good I fell asleep through it, I didn’t have better plans for the night and tomorrow’s Saturday. I’ll be there in - dunno. Half an hour?”

“God, _thank you_ ,” Ned says, “you’re a lifesaver. Really.”

“If I can help out,” Jon says, and then closes the call figuring he should put on a coat and leave - good thing he hadn’t even had the strength to change when he came back home from work.

Shit, if ten years ago you’d have told him he’d end up trying to help out the cousin of _Rhaegar’s estranged son_ get over whatever gay crisis he has going on, he’d have laughed. Hard.

Now he doesn’t feel like laughing whatsoever.

\--

He gets in his car and drives up to Ned’s - there’s another car parked outside, so he supposes it’s Cat’s infamous gay uncle who he never had a chance to meet before. He parks as well and knocks on the door, and Ned looks entirely relieved to see him as he opens the door.

“Good thing you’re here,” he says, “it got worse.”

“Wait, _how_  did it?”

“Theon’s father actually called and ranted for five minutes about how Robb was a horrible influence and how about we ruined his kid and blah blah blah, and apparently Theon’s also nowhere to be found so Robb is sure he might have done something stupid, and -”

A moment later, Jon can distinctly hear someone sobbing on the upper floor.

“Right. _That_. Just, Brynden’s already there, if you manage to do anything that’d be grand because we have no idea. Cat’s at the end of her rope, too.”

“Okay, I’ll just - I’ll go upstairs. Is my godson anywhere?”

“He was knocking on Robb’s door until ten minutes ago, when Brynden got here we convinced him to let it go for the moment so he’s on the phone with _his_ best friend insulting everyone involved in this mess.”

“Fair enough. I’ll talk to him later.”

He goes upstairs where he hears a steady knocking on Robb’s door.

“Robb, come on, how about we talk about this?”

“There’s nothing to talk about!”

Well, Jon thinks, Robb _never_ sounded like _that_ about anything. He really must be feeling awful. He comes closer and finally takes notice of the man standing outside the door - right. Definitely related to Cat. He has the same auburn hair, though with a few streaks of white - he must be in his mid forties or so, but he wears them _very_ well - and the same clear blue eyes. He’s also very much in shape as far as Jon can see - he’s wearing all black, but he looks toned and lean underneath, and he definitely must go out in the sun a lot because he has a tan and it’s March in _London_ , hardly summer in Spain. All in all, _definitely_ very good looking.

(Listen, it’s been years and Jon has _eyes_ , all right?)

“Hey,” Jon says, keeping his voice low. “You must be Cat’s infamous uncle?”

“And you must be _Jon_ ’s infamous namesake?”

Jon snorts as he holds out a hand. “Yeah. Jon Connington.”

“Brynden Tully,” the other man replies, shaking it. He has a nice strong grip. Jon tries to not think about it too much.

“So,” he says, “what’s the situation and what damage control are _we_ supposed to be doing?”

“Well, as far as I understood, Theon broke things off with Robb _by phone_ earlier this evening citing very questionable reasons especially since they had been together for a couple months and everything was going great, then Robb took it badly, then someone else called while I was here trying to lure him out and he answered hoping it was Theon, turns out it was Theon’s father who proceeded to call him a number of horrible things which I heard because I listened to the conversation on _the other_ phone, then it turns out Theon broke it off with Robb because _he_ forced him to and then they argued and Theon’s gone _somewhere_ and no one knows why and his mother apparently took it horribly and - well, you could barely hear him over screaming in the background.”

“Shit,” Jon says, “anything else?”

“I told him to fuck off because Robb obviously wasn’t going to and that was it. I mean, you came in ten seconds later.”

“So, Theon’s gone somewhere no one knows, Robb’s devastated and Theon’s father is an idiot and they didn’t even want to break up in the first place?”

“… Pretty much.”

Jon sighs. “Did Theon have, like, any other close friends who might know where he’s driven off to?”

“According to your godson before he disappeared talking to Sam Tarly, no.”

“Fine. I think I know the problem. Can I?”

“Be my guest. I’ve been trying for twenty minutes but it didn’t work.”

“Asking him to _talk_? I don’t think it’s the problem. Never mind.” Jon knocks on the door. “Robb! Listen, I know that you’re upset and that you want to murder Theon’s father as much as I wanted to murder Rhaegar’s back in the day, but if your boyfriend’s out on some kind of bender or whatever then someone needs to go get him before he does something stupid and you’re the only person who apparently might know where he’d go, so how about you at least tell us that so we can go get him and you two can talk things out?”

For a moment, they hear nothing.

Then -

Then the door opens a crack, then some more, and then Robb opens it completely and _damn_ , he looks like shit. He has eyes as red as his hair and he’s obviously been crying for a hell of a long time, and he looks ready to topple over.

“I don’t think he wants to talk it out and even if he did, after - I can’t force him to get back together if his father is like that about it.”

“That’s not it,” Jon says, shaking his head. “Listen, I don’t know if your brother told you or how much he did, but I’ve spent years pining over his damned father and back in the day I didn’t even dare tell him because _his_ father wouldn’t have appreciated knowing Rhaegar was friends with, well, someone who swung our way never mind more than that. I never had a chance with Rhaegar anyway and it took me years to come to terms with the fact that he would have never been into me _that_ way, and I see it’s not the same thing when it comes to your guy, so how about you just tell us where he might be and we can go talk to him instead and see how he _really_ feels about it?”

Robb sends him an almost hopeful look, and Jon would like to know why he’s talking to _him_ and not anyone else, but - never mind that.

Robb shrugs. “His favorite place to go get drinks is that pub near his house, Seaworth’s. But - well, the owner wouldn’t let him get smashed, I think. He’s too responsible for that. There’s the one nearby, I think it’s called something like The Three Hounds, where the owner doesn’t care as long as you pay, but - it should be either. Otherwise, I have no idea.” He sobs again over the last couple words. “Shit, I _knew_ I should have just kept my mouth shut.”

“Wait, _what_?” Brynden asks.

Robb shrugs. “I was the one fessing up first. I thought there was a chance he’d reciprocate and he did, but I knew how his father was. I shouldn’t have -”

“Robb,” Jon interrupts him, “just _don’t_ , all right? You’d have spent months or worse regretting it. Just get some rest and let us handle it. You know where those pubs are?” He asks Brynden, hoping that he sounds like he has his shit together.

“Yeah,” he says, “we can get my car and drive there.”

“Good. We’ll sort it out.”

“Thank you,” Robb sobs all over again, and then goes back into his room and throws himself on the bed.

Fuck’s sake.

“So,” Jon says, “shall we?”

“Sure,” Brynden replies, taking his keys from his leather jacket. “Just follow me downstairs.”

They tell Ned and Cat that they’re on it and to tell Jon to keep the phone free in case they need to call, and then he follows Brynden and sits on the passenger side of his definitely old but well-kept German car.

“Jesus,” Brynden says as he puts the car into drive, “this was _not_ how I had planned to spend my evening.”

“Why, what were your plans?”

“… I was watching some crap romcom on tv, so I guess nothing that urgent.”

“Wait, Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks re-do _The Shop Around the Corner_ and utterly fail at being as good as the original?”

“… Yeah. Why, you too?”

“I slept through the entire last half, admittedly. So much for the stereotypes where we’re supposed to like romcoms.”

“ _Please_ ,” Brynden scoffs, “give me John Wayne any day.”

“Robert Redford’s kinda more my type, but point taken. So, what are we hoping for?”

“That the kid’s actually gone to drink off his sorrows, that he’s in either of those bars and that he’s not smashed to hell and back, I guess. By the way, nice save there.”

Jon shrugs. “I know more than enough about the guy you’re into coming from a family of assholes. And back in the day I wouldn’t have wanted to talk to people about it, but if he was in trouble and only I knew how to help, I’d have done it.”

“Jon’s father, right?”

“Yeah,” he admits, shrugging. “I mean, by now I guess I’m _definitely_ over it, but it was - a long time.”

“Can I ask how much?”

“Sure. I mean, whatever. We met when we were ten or so, I think I realized it at thirteen.”

“Wait, didn’t he and Lyanna run off -”

“When he was twenty-five and - Jon was five and something? _Yes_ ,” Jon says, trying to not sound utterly pathetic.

“Fuck’s sake, and he never even suspected?”

“Who even knows. I think he did, or at least he thought we were extremely good friends or he wouldn’t have _named his kid after me_ , but maybe it was because I was the only idiot who didn’t try to discourage him from having the kid in the first place. I guess. I mean, if that made him happy why would I tell him it was a dumb idea?”

“Even if it was making you miserable?”

“Is it _that_ obvious?”

Brynden shrugs. “Pretty much,” he says. “Sorry.”

“No offense taken, I _know_ it’s pathetic.”

“It’s _not_ ,” Brynden offers. “I mean, what was it even, the eighties? Fuck’s sake, my father didn’t talk to me for ten years when he found out and he found out in ’81 or something of the kind and it wasn’t great, and my brother didn’t talk to me for years as well. Actually, he barely talks to me _now_. How old are you anyway?”

“Thirty-six next year. You?”

“Forty-six next year. Well, I got _that_ , you got the HIV scare, no one would blame you for not coming clean about it back in the day especially given that the bloke of your dreams was related to that arsehole of Jon’s grandfather. Never mind that, it’s probably a very good thing that both of us are around, not dead, not sick and on a quest to get my nephew and his _boyfriend_ back together.”

Jon snorts - he _has_ to at this point. It is a bit funny, after all.

“God, they have _boyfriends_ now. How progressive.”

“Don’t I know it, back in my day calling someone like that would have been - I can’t even imagine that.”

“I _could_ ,” Jon says, “but it wasn’t my case. I mean, seriously? I don’t think I ever got that far. But then again, it wouldn’t have been fair either.”

“Don’t I know that. Anyway, at least I didn’t have _one_ person I had set my sights on.”

“Really?”

“Nah. I was too busy trying to figure out how to pay the rent. Anyway, we should be near the second pub Robb said.”

“Yeah, it’s over there. Should I go check?”

“Let’s hope he’s _not_ here,” Brynden sighs. “But sure. You know him, right?”

“I’ve seen him around a couple times, I can recognize him.”

Brynden stops the car and Jon gets out and walks into the pub, which is thankfully consisting in only one room and one counter. He takes a good look but he can’t see Theon anywhere, so he gets back out and moves into the car again.

“Not here,” he says.

“Right. Let’s hope he’s at the responsible guy’s pub or we’re screwed.”

They drive in silence until they get to this Seaworth’s and park nearby. They both walk quickly towards the pub, which is thankfully half-empty, and that’s how they both spot Theon Greyjoy leaning on the counter and apparently begging the owner to hand him over some more booze.

“Right,” Brynden says, “I’ve got this.”

“After you,” Jon says, and they both walk inside.

“- Davos, come on, I explained you the darned situation,” Theon’s downright pleading.

“You did, and that’s why I didn’t say anything until the _fourth_ refill. If you want to sleep on the sofa in the office tonight it’s not a problem, but I can’t in good conscience have you drink an entire bottle of Jack’s in less than two hours.”

“Why the hell do you think I came here then? Just - come on, at least another one.”

“Like hell.”

“Davos -”

“Lad, quit it. He’s right,” Brynden says, moving to sit next to him, and Theon almost does a double take as he recognizes him.

“What -” He starts, definitely not putting two and two together. “What would _you_ be doing here?”

“I don’t know, given that Robb’s been crying for the last two hours and that he’s completely miserable and he’s sure he should have never put a move on you and that your father called just to inform him that he’s a horrible deviant who ruined you when you were already halfway a disappointment while your mother was hurling insults at him in the background, maybe I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid and bring you back to Ned’s.”

“The _fuck_ ,” Theon says, “why would you? We broke up, if you hadn’t realized.”

“ _Neither of you_ wanted to, last I checked,” Brynden shrugs. “And if your father is a complete fucking tool it doesn’t mean you should ruin your life because of him.”

“Seems like you _heard_ him,” Theon presses. “You _do_ realize it might be a problem, don’t you?”

Brynden just keeps on staring at him. “Right, I doubt Cat would tell you of all people when I’m halfway sure Robb doesn’t know either, but when I was twenty-eight _my_ father found out that I was into men and I told him that it wasn’t going to change _and_ I certainly wasn’t marrying the daughter of his neighbor, I ended up having to grab my bags and leave the next day, and good thing I was working already because I could pay rent and be on my own. He still isn’t talking to me, my brother didn’t talk to me for the next ten years and he only relented because Robb’s mom didn’t take well to me suddenly disappearing from her life and so on, and my father _still_ isn’t talking to me. He’s nowhere near the kind of asshole _yours_ is, but he’s still fairly fucking terrible and still, I wouldn’t go back on it again because I couldn’t stand lying to everyone all the time. And I didn’t even have, someone who was whatever you and Robb are to each other anyway. It was a question of principle. Now, _neither_ of you wanted to break up andI know my niece _and_ Ned well enough that I’m sure they’d think of something to help you two out. The question is, are you two serious or what?”

Theon laughs, and then he reaches up and wipes at his eyes and then laughs again. “Do you honestly think I’d go for it when you _heard_ my fucking father if I wasn’t serious about it? Shit, I wouldn’t have risked that for - for someone I just wanted to fuck.”

“Good. Then you have two choices. You can come back with us and go talk shit out with Robb and then when you’re sobered up - _tomorrow_ , I guess - you can talk things out and we can see how we can help out the two of you, or we can bring you home where you’ll most likely be miserable for a hell of a long time while Robb also is miserable. What’s your poison?”

“You know,” Theon tells him, “you don’t mince words.”

“That’s because it’s not exactly easy to find people you _like_ when you are a guy who’s not into women -”

“I’m into both,” Theon mutters.

“You’re with a guy, so _that_ ’s what’s your problem right now. Anyway, I didn’t have a supportive family and _Jon_ here was in love with a guy who was never going to be an option. You admittedly don’t have the first but you have a guy who _is_ an option and wants to be with you and whose family _definitely_ is supportive and can help you out, so I happen to think it’d be a pity to ruin it because your father’s an asshole.”

“Preach, because his father definitely is, and that’s why he doesn’t have a tab here anymore,” the owner, Davos, says as he cleans a few glasses.

“Really,” Jon tells him, “I know you don’t even know me so my opinion is what it is, but - I’d have given an arm to have a chance with _my_ guy. I didn’t and I’ve spent what, two thirds of my life pining after him. It wasn’t worth it, I guess, but - if I were you, I would think about it before being all fatalistic about it.”

Theon looks down at his empty glass. All of them say nothing, figuring that he needs to _think_.

He does for a while.

Then he looks up at them, pushing the glass out of the way. “Fine. I’m comin’ with you. I just hope your optimism is worth somethin’ because that doesn’t look so great to me right now.”

“Good choice,” Davos says approvingly.

“Thanks for the support,” Jon tells him.

“Please. You two can have a free drink next time you’re around. And Theon, don’t do anything stupid.”

Jon _can_ see why Robb was hoping he’d come _here_ for drinks. They help Theon get to the car - apparently he wasn’t drunk enough to slur his words but he definitely was drunk enough to stumble on the way out and he passes out as soon as he hits the backseat.

Jon moves back into the passenger’s and breathes out in relief as they drive back to the Starks’s, and neither of them says a thing but he has a feeling that they both talked enough about sensitive shit for the entire evening.

He wakes Theon up while they pull into the driveway - apparently, sleeping it off for a bit did get Theon sobered up enough to get out of the car on his own. They don’t need to knock on the door because it slams open a second later - he has a feeling Robb had been checking from the window. He’s proven right as Robb appears behind it and runs forward, grabbing Theon’s arms and pulling him to his chest without even letting him say anything.

“Robb -” Theon starts.

“I can tell you how much of an idiot you’ve been later,” Robb declares, sounding utterly relieved, and a second later he’s dragged Theon inside and planted a kiss on his mouth of the long, thorough and not-leaving-any-doubts-about-how-serious-this-is kind, and Jon can’t help breathing in relief as well as they disappear upstairs. He figures everyone else was ordered to stay out of the way until Robb brought Theon up to his room, but _they_ should go in to discuss it with Ned and Cat.

“Hey,” Brynden tells him, slamming the car’s door and moving up next to him, “I guess we haven’t done badly, have we?”

“No,” he agrees. “We didn’t. Guess we should go warn your niece and her husband?”

“We should,” Brynden says, “but I think I have a question first.”

“Such as?”

Brynden takes a _look_ at him, and Jon thinks that those piercing blue eyes are _definitely_ something, especially if they’re staring at _him_.

“It’s just,” he goes on. “From what you said, I gathered you aren’t seeing anyone right now.”

Jon laughs. He _has_ to. “Hell, no. It’s already a miracle I _think_ I’m over Rhaegar, but - that meant I never exactly was in the dating game. A few times a common friend who’s into _both_ dragged me out to a few clubs but at most I got one night stands. No, I’m not seeing anyone. Why?”

Brynden shrugs, and _then_ \- “Seaworth said he owes the both of us a free drink, didn’t he?”

“He - he did.”

“I was wondering, maybe you’d like to cash in on that at the same time as me?”

For a moment, Jon wants to ask for a clarification, but then he puts two and two together, and -

“Wait, are you asking me out?”

Brynden shrugs and sends him a small smile, a bit sheepish maybe, but - it’s kind of obvious that he’s guessed right.

“I’ve seen enough of you tonight to know you’re an interesting guy, and you’re definitely _not_ hard on the eyes, after this evening I think we’d definitely get along and you definitely deserve better than not getting laid regularly because Rhaegar Targaryen was the worst person you could have fallen for, and I’m fairly sure your godson agrees. That is, if you want to. No obligation to say yes and no offense taken if I’m not your type. I’m too old to get fed up over that bullshit.”

Right. _Definitely_ someone who hates to mince words. Jon honestly doesn’t know what the hell he should say, especially because he usually _doesn’t_ get asked out, but -

Well. For one, he didn’t get asked to Oberyn’s kind of club, which he tried thrice and he decided was so _not_ his thing, he never stepped foot inside one since the last time he let himself be dragged there. Also, he’s been thinking that Brynden’s fairly attractive since they met, no point in denying it to himself, and it’s obviously - well, not a _formal_ invitation or anything. And people do go out to get to know each other in the realm of adjusted relationships, and maybe it’s time he tries one out. Or attempts to, anyway.

Admittedly, they really _did_ work well together, didn’t they? And - well. Maybe he didn’t get the ridiculous romcom happy ending where he ends up with the dude he’s wanted all along, but -

“You know,” he says, “that romcom we were watching?”

“Yeah. How about that?”

“I thought it was crap. But I also - don’t dislike romcoms. _Entirely_. I just hate horrible ones.”

“Point taken. I also do, or I wouldn’t have been trying that one out. Is this a lead-up to the point where you tell me what’s your favorite?”

Jon laughs. “ _Sabrina_ ,” he says.

“You don’t look much like Audrey Hepburn,” Brynden says dryly.

“Hell no, and _she_ definitely wasn’t my type, but I mean, I’m suddenly realizing that maybe it means something that my favorite is about someone who thinks they’re meant to be with a guy all along and then it turns out she’s way more into another guy who’s way less flashy instead.”

“Fair,” Brynden says. “So, your type was Holden or Bogart? Don’t let the suspense kill me.”

“Both, actually,” Jon says. “But I _did_ think she was better off with Bogart. Or Harrison Ford, if you like the remake best. Anyway, that was a very long-winded and ridiculous way to tell you that _yes_ , I’d have those drinks with you, if you’re really so sure of that.”

“Oh,” Brynden says, smiling openly, “I never joke when I ask a nice guy out. So, do you have anything to do tomorrow?”

_He also doesn’t like wasting time other than breath, huh?_

Jon thinks he likes it.

He smiles back.

“Nah,” he says. “Tomorrow will do.”

\--

“Are they ever coming in?” Ned asks Cat as they stand behind the door, looking at her uncle and Jon Connington still chatting outside in the driveway and not coming in when they should have some ten minutes ago.

“At some point,” Cat says, wondering if what she’s thinking might happen _will_ happen. She knows her uncle, and she knows his type, and those two have been _talking_ for far too long -

“Oh,” Ned says as they suddenly move close to each other and kiss briefly but _very_ soundly.

“ _Oh_ ,” Cat says. “I think congratulations will be in order soon and that we should go make them some tea.”

Ned looks at them, then at her. “Yeah. Yeah, guess we should. All in all, maybe this was a more profitable evening than we’d have imagined when we called them.”

“Ah, they should totally thank us. Or Theon’s father. Should we tell him, actually?”

Ned, who doesn’t usually grin openly, does _now_.

“You know what, given what he just put Robb through, I think he deserves to know. Go make the tea, I’ll call him as soon as you’re back.”

 _Yes_ , Cat thinks, _this evening ended up really better than she had imagined it ever could_.

 

 

End.


End file.
